Facets of Vash
by JasperK
Summary: Everyone sees Vash a little differently, these are various stories I have written for other FF writers on this site in their own version of the Trigun Universe. A shout out here to CMR2014 and EdenEvergreen! EDIT June 2019: These were previously posted between 2013 - 2014 and are now collected here.
1. Chapter 1: Better than Planned CMR2014

EDIT June 2019: These chapters contain short pieces that I have written for various FF Authors in their own version of the Trigun Universe.

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_A/N: This is for cmr2014, he wrote _Target Practice_ and (for various reasons) I couldn't resist giving it a sequel._

_Thanks for the awesome tale cmr2014 & permission to post this - go check out his great stories, well worth a read!_

**Better than Planned**

First Posted: 13 17 2014

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Millie came home to find Wolfwood caked in dust and sweat, busy filling a bucket of water by the tomas that was tethered to the veranda railing. On the veranda and Vash sprawled out in the rocking chair, his hair in disarray.

"What happened Mister Priest?" She asked worriedly. "Did bounty hunters come by? Do we have visitors? Why is there a tomas here?"

Vash gave a snort of laughter.

Wolfwood cleared his throat before Vash could voice the gleeful mischief written all over his face. He was clearly itching to share the news of his stupidity. Well, he wasn't doing that in front of Millie.

"I had a small accident..."

"Oh? Is that why're you so dirty?" Millie said, concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yep." Wolfwood ignored his skinned knee he had received on skidding around the corner of a building.

"Mister Vash?" Millie glanced worriedly at him.

Vash was shaking his head while chuckling silently.

"Are you hurt?"

"Not badly." Vash grinned and hauled himself into a sitting position in the chair.

"But that doesn't explain the tomas."

Vash sniggered again, and leaned over as his silent laughter put a stitch in his side.

"Er, this is the replacement." Wolfwood said.

"For what?"

"Um, my bike?" Wolfwood explained, now beginning to feel more than a little foolish.

Millie gaped at the tomas as it ignored the water and searched for food.

"But, but you said you'd take me to the dance at Ludvik's Saloon on the other side of town."

"What!" Wolfwood exclaimed in panic. "That was tonight?"

"Yes!" Millie said happily. "Miss Meryl was making fruit pies for the pudding contest; I came home early to help her with them. Ooh, I'm already late. Miss Meryl will be upset." She hurried past him and up the stairs.

Wolfwood glanced at Vash and saw the same guilty expression on his face.

Millie rattled the door knob.

"Why is it locked? Where is Miss Meryl?"

"Ask Wolfwood." Vash said, like a spineless coward, Wolfwood thought.

"Why me?" He bristled. "You also shot up the fruit!"

"You did what?" Millie exclaimed gaping at him.

"Oi! I only suggested fruit because we needed better targets!" Wolfwood said defensively.

"Better targets?" Vash exclaimed. "You were the one who missed the Zombie!"

"Zombie?" Millie said faintly.

"Ugh! That was because you were ragging on at me about physics!" Wolfwood exclaimed.

"Physics?" Millie echoed in bewilderment.

"That was because you stupidly put cold water in your overheated radiator!" Vash declared.

"Mister Priest?" Milly giggled. "Did you really do that?"

Wolfwood turned away so that he wouldn't scowl at her, and let Vash take the full force of it. Vash was still sniggering, the traitor.

"Oh yes he did." Meryl said from behind her. "Come in, Millie, we're having supper. Then we're going to the dance on Wolfwood's tomas. I'm sure we'll find plenty of other young men willing to dance."

"W-what?" Vash exclaimed.

"We said sorry!" Wolfwood protested as Meryl locked the door again.

"Oh man." Vash said, for the first time that afternoon he had lost his smile. It returned slowly, with more mischief in his expression. "Do you think if we head over to the saloon now, we'd be able to buy a pudding on the way and freshen up there before this dance thing?"

"Only if we take the tomas." Wolfwood said.

Meryl stepped out of the house in a pale mauve dress, and Millie followed her in a flowing green one. There was no tomas, no men and no way to get to the dance. She clenched her fists in fury.

"Ooh! That man! When I get my hands on him…"

Her words were cut short when around the corner came trotting the tomas Wolfwood had hired. Her mouth fell open when she saw that Wolfwood, now wearing a tux, was driving the open carriage it pulled.

"Ooh!" Millie exclaimed as it drew to a halt beside the house and Vash hopped down from the seats. He had somehow brushed his coat 'till it put Wolfwood's tux to shame.

"Would you like to come to the dance?" Vash asked, with a flourishing bow and not very subtle attempts to get Meryl to smile at him. Wolfwood turned away; he was having difficulty not laughing.

"Oh yes!" Millie clapped her hands. Vash gallantly helped her up beside Wolfwood.

Vash eventually convinced Meryl to relent and handed her up into the carriage.

"Ooh! What's this?" She exclaimed at the box with a ribbon tied around it that lay on the seat beside her.

"Pudding for the competition!" Vash explained.

Meryl stared at it.

"Don't you like it?" He asked worriedly.

Meryl began to laugh; Wolfwood breathed out a sigh and clucked the tomas into motion.

"Vash," she explained. "It's a contest, one has to bake it oneself."

"Oh."

Wolfwood sniggered.

Vash glared at him as if to say he hadn't known either, but Meryl had decided that that gesture was worth a kiss. After a moment Vash quite forgot Wolfwood, let alone his irritation. Wolfwood put his arm around Millie and she snuggled up to him. All in all, it was a good thing he had broken his bike, and they had shot up the fruit, this had worked out much better than any of them could have planned.


	2. Chapter 2: With this Ring EdenEvergreen

_Spoilers: More of the not quite expected type._

_If you have not read any of Eden Evergreen's stuff, then this is a huge plot spoiler, sorry!_

_Spoilers start from here onwards – you have been warned!_

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_A/N: A Gift Fic for one awesome Eden Evergreen!_

_So, Eden Evergreen wrote this series of stories where Vash falls in love with a female independent plant called Shyla. (Go and check it out, the first is "Vash's Quiet Life", and the others follow on from there.) This scene I wrote while discussing random things with her, and she said I could post it. Yay! (Elements of it occur in Vash Vindicated:VQL#4 ch6 & Shared Memories:VQL#4.5 ch7) Hehe, Fan Fic of Fan Fic, again. :)_

First Posted: 10 09 2013

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.

**With This Ring**

or

**How to Catch One's Lady Love**

.

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Vash the Stampede, or Nate Saverem, as he was now known, was in a bind. Not his usual predicament of how to dodge bullets or fast talk others out of a situation. No, this was a problem of a more precarious nature. It would affect his whole life, yet not with the usual uncertain balance between living and dying. He had proposed to Shyla. It had slipped out with all the suppressed longing in his heart. She had delightedly accepted. They had spent a very pleasant evening cuddling on her bed to fall asleep in each other's arms. He rubbed his hand over his stomach almost unconsciously feeling the newly healed skin through the material of his shirt. Not only had Shyla healed him, she had also spent a considerable amount of time that evening tracing her fingers over the newly healed areas. It felt so different. He would never tell her, as he was not sure if he imagined it, but the places where the scars had been seemed to be sensitive to her touch, in a very pleasurable way.

He had sneaked off to try some exercises earlier that day. Nothing too strenuous, but enough to remind his muscles that they needed to work. The injuries from the gunshot wounds were healing well. The ache and uncomfortable stretching sensation were gone thanks to Shyla's attention to the surface of the injuries. Internally he was healing slower than he would have liked, but he supposed that had to do with his own diminished plant power. It still ached and he certainly could not do sit-ups with any ease. Yet, somehow, he had forgotten that. He had woken in the night to find her asleep against his chest, cuddled to him for warmth. His back was cold, and he found himself holding her, not only for the sheer pleasure of it, but for the practical reason that the temperatures plummeted at night. He had wanted to pick her up so that he could cover her in the blankets she now slept on, but the moment he had tried to lift her his stomach muscles reminded him starkly that he was in no state to be lifting anything. He had settled her down gently before she could wake and had tucked the blankets about her as best he could and then looped his arm around her to hold them in place. With his free hand he stroked her pale hair until he dozed off.

He scratched the back of his neck realising he was procrastinating. He had just finished talking the priest into marrying them today. Honestly one would think the priest did not understand plants. Vash lowered his hand and stared at his fingers. Perhaps the man did not. He shrugged. He was only procrastinating more. He had perhaps half an hour and he had no time to stand around waiting for the solution to magically appear. He flexed his fingers. He needed to find a ring for Shyla. On his more whimsical and self-tormented days, he had browsed the windows of the jeweller's stores and picked out rings he had thought she would like. But he had never bought one. That would be tempting fate in the worst manner. He was not superstitious, but he did not want to admit the depth of his own feelings before she was able to connect with him at that level. Now, he realised the predicament he was in. He needed a ring. Now. In twenty five minutes.

"Vash, what are you doing standing there dreaming?" He jumped as Rem put her head in at the door, her arms filled with frilly white materials. He felt his heart plummet as he realised he was nowhere near ready. Shyla was going to be a bride in white. The dread then vanished in the rising delight and joy that suddenly filled his heart.

"I was right."

He gave a start at how critically Rem was eyeing him.

"You do need someone to help you. I'll send William up; he volunteered his help if any was needed."

"William?" Vash raised an eyebrow at the way Rem said the name.

She gave him a ghost of a smile and slipped out of the room. What was that all about? He knew William; he was a plant engineer who lived in the village two houses down from Shyla's place. Naw, he must be imagining things. Rem was quite direct, if she liked the man she would have said. He laughed silently at himself; he must be quite tied up with love to have thought of that at all.

Twenty minutes, oh man, this was not helping him with his solution.

.

"Nate!"

Vash looked up from where he had distracted himself. He was a little embarrassed to discover he had been caught staring blankly at the mouth of his bag unable to decide the best thing to wear to his own wedding.

William strode in, cheerful yet calm.

"Oh man!" Vash exclaimed and hurried over and hastily closed the door behind William. "I'm in so much trouble!"

William looked from him to the door and frowned at the bag that had fallen against the bed.

"I've an old suit I can lend you, not sure if the trousers will fit though, you're taller than me."

"No!" Vash exclaimed and agitatedly shifted his stance. "I don't have a ring for Shyla!"

William blinked at him.

"Well if you do want to get married at such short notice, there will have to be some sacrifices. I'm sure she will understand."

Vash gave him a helpless stare, his shoulders slumped.

"Yes, she will. She is kind like that. Only, I want to give her a ring, now. I know she is the kind of person to treasure that." He paused as memories of years of watching weddings and the behaviour around them. "I mean, girls really love rings, I've seen how they show them off when they are given them."

"Nate, you can buy wedding bands at Joseph's Jewellers on the second deck of the ship." William said in a quiet voice, as if carefully reminding a man of something he should know.

"Oh yes!" Vash's face lit up. "Let's go!"

"Not so fast!" William caught his prosthetic arm. "Rem said to keep you up here so you wouldn't see Shyla. You're not supposed to see her before the wedding. I'll go and warn them that we're leaving and they can tuck the bride away."

.

It seemed to take them an age to reach the jewellers. Vash half skipped and would have run the distance if William had not been walking at a swift pace beside him. Joseph's Jewellers was a small place, but there were rings in cabinets as well as necklaces and bracelets. Vash did not see any of the jeweller's exquisite handiwork; all he could focus on were the rings.

"There." He pointed. "I like that one with the diamond."

"That's an engagement ring. The wedding bands are traditionally simple gold bands, there." William pointed the pair out.

"What?" Vash raised his head in dismay as his stomach sunk horribly. "I was supposed to give her a ring earlier?"

"It is traditional to have a diamond ring when proposing." William explained.

Vash blinked. Oh dear.

"You didn't know?"

Vash was wondering how to explain that he knew plenty of traditions, just not this one. He covered his confusion by turning to the jeweller, Joseph himself, who had come to stand on the other side of the counter.

"I'll buy that ring and the wedding bands."

"Ah, do you have the ring sizes? It will be a few days for us to adjust them for you Nate."

Vash felt his desperation rise, a few days?

"I need them now." He pleaded.

"Well, you might be lucky and they will fit." Joseph said amiably and brought out the rings.

Vash found his a little loose but it stayed on his hand, and for a ring to actually fit on and stay on one of the prosthetic fingers was fairly impressive. He found himself pondering if they had made the prosthetic to mimic his other arm, or to some proportional scale.

He abruptly ran into another predicament.

"And your partner, what is her ring size?"

Vash turned to William, speechless.

"I'll go find out." William said in a helpful manner, seeing the flat panic in Vash's eyes. "In the mean time, pay for it and get home and get dressed. You'll be late for your own wedding."

"You're getting married today!" Joseph exclaimed. "Who is the lucky lady?"

"Leave off the teasing Joe, he can't think straight." William said and nudged Vash. Vash rubbed his arm and realised he had been trying to locate the best part of the story to begin telling Joseph about Shyla.

.

Alone with the jeweller, Vash realised it was pointless to have William return. They would not be able to adjust the ring size at this time, and certainly not in the next ten minutes. Oh man, he needed to catch William and borrow that suit. He bought the rings with a promise to Joseph to return to him to have them adjusted. He flat out ran back to the house. He caught William as he was on his way back out.

"Aha, I have it." William held up a loop of thread with a knot in it.

They went down to William's house so Vash could borrow the suit. They took out the rings and measured it against the loop of thread. The rings were slightly bigger. Vash breathed out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Shyla had small hands.

He dressed, tied his cravat, checked his hair was tidily back in a tail with a burnished red leather loop that matched a red waistcoat William had borrowed from a friend. It fit him surprisingly well. But Vash had more pressing things on his mind than primping and preening before the mirror, so when William's back was turned he sneaked out of the window. He hurried down the back alley until he came to Shyla's home. He peered in at the windows until he found the room she was in, and he was lucky she was looking in his direction while the other ladies were not. He hastily signed that she should move to the next room. She frowned.

(Vash, you shouldn't be here.) She sent her thoughts telepathically to him.

(Please!) He begged. He could not stop all the heartfelt pleading from leaking across.

She smiled indulgently then and still dressed in her slim under shift, excused herself from the room.

"Psst!"

Vash hurried over to the bathroom window where Shyla was leaning on the window still. He peered in; she was crouched on the countertop around the basin to reach the window. He stole a kiss and she entwined her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. She caught his hands as they touched her hair that had been done up with little clips and pins so it seemed that a whole flutter of white butterflies had landed in it.

"Careful." She giggled. "What are you doing here? We're getting married in five minutes and I'm not even dressed properly yet."

He slipped the diamond ring out of his pocket and concealed it in his hand, then smiled at her.

"Shyla, would you marry me?" His voice becoming husky with emotion at the end.

"Of course, dearest." She whispered and kissed him. "I've already said yes."

Vash produced a ring and she gasped, clapping both hands to her face. She eyed him, tears gathering, unable to speak aloud.

(That is beautiful.) She murmured. (Oh my love, where did you get that, it's so beautiful!)

He took that as assent and gently tugged her left hand away from her face and slipped it on. Shyla eyed it with heart melting delight, he had not been wrong to interrupt her preparation time.

"I love you." He kissed her on the now bare cheek and took her hand. She was trembling. "Climb off the counter carefully. I don't want you to fall. Careful now."

In a dazed state Shyla did as he directed.

"See you at the wedding."

She smiled, still unable to speak, and blinked at her tears.

He gave a wave which she returned then he had to tear himself away as a knock came at the door.

"Shyla, you alight in there?" Rem called. "You're not being sick are you? Nerves can do peculiar things."

"I'm fine!" Shyla managed in a husky voice after a few attempts.

.

Vash watched as Shyla walked across the garden. He was aware there were other people and the priest in attendance, but somehow they did not exist. All he had eyes for were Shyla. He felt a lump form in his throat. She was so gloriously beautiful. He watched her delicate movements, and the way she shyly gazed at him as if all her universe contained was him. He did not deserve her, yet somehow, she had said yes. And now wore his ring. And was about to marry him. He breathed out a soft breath of incredulity and joy. He loved her, and felt a blanket of peace wrap around his heart at the thought of her as his wife. He would never have guessed having selected her village at random all those years ago, that it would have yielded such a gift. Out of such a time of sorrow and weakness, and many years of patience and confusion, they had all culminated in this. He smiled with the joy and hope that she was to him.

(I love you.)

Vash tried not to jump at the mental nudge she gave him. As light headed with joy and wonder as he had been, Shyla had shyly added a sense of longing and desire to the mix. He blinked, long used to keeping control of himself.

(I love you too.) But not so much control that he could not share the same longing and desire with his wife to be.

She came to stand beside him and the priest started the ceremony. Ah, never ever had he dreamed that he would have such a moment in his life. Vash smiled out at the audience.

(Thank you for the engagement ring.) She murmured. (It is special that you remembered.)

At that, he knew he had done the right thing.


	3. Chapter 3: Stasis EdenEvergreen

_A/N: Another story dedicated to Eden Evergreen. She has so graciously helped me out of a story hole in allowing me to write these. Well "allowing" is not the right word, 'cause I cheekily wrote them with no permission and gave them to her as gift fics. However, as a result I am now working on my own stuff again. (: So THANK YOU Eden Evergreen!_

_._

_This scene occurs between the incidents of [ch 4 of Shared Memories , VQL 4.5], and of [ch 5 of Vash Vindicated, VQL 4]. As to how and why Rem is around, go and read her stories. Fan fic of Fan fic, again. :)_

First Posted: 10 11 2013

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.

**Stasis**

Or

**States of being**

.

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William Reeve brushed his long fringe out of his eyes as he walked wearily back from the plant rooms. He needed a haircut, but had had no time to get one. He tugged at his fine red hair; perhaps he could take a pair of scissors to his hair tonight. He grimaced to himself that sort of distracted thinking was just like him when things were going badly. Things always went badly when a plant was nearing the end of her life. Shyla, the independent plant had spent many nights with her, but all she could do was to ease the discomfort. There was nothing she could do for death.

This particular plant had been brought from an outlying town, and her condition had only deteriorated in transportation. Chief engineer Tom Harper had been livid that they had even deigned to move her in such a state. However, seeing the condition she was in, they had accepted the bulb and installed her, but had only connected the life support, not the power outlet.

He was somewhat glad Vash was not around. He never said anything, but his eyes spoke more eloquently than the soft tears Shyla cried. He stepped aside in the passage as several medics walked purposefully past him. Then one turned to him.

"Hey, you're a plant engineer, right?"

"Ah, yes?" He said, exhaustedly.

"How long can a plant stay in stasis?"

He shrugged, not knowing what the medic was talking about.

"He won't know what to do with Vash, he's an orb plant engineer. We have to wake her!"

"Vash?" William felt his ears prick up. "He's a friend of mine. How can I help?"

The medics laughed.

"He's a friend of everyone."

"Do you know what stasis is?" Another asked and waved him along after them.

"Describe it." He said, almost jogging with the pace they kept. They were headed toward the cold sleep chambers.

"Well, its where one plant syncs with another and they restore and sustain the hurt one."

"Ah, yes. Shyla would try that with Ephemera." He used the name Shyla had called her, the dying plant. "It helps the other to relax and heal."

There was a silence as the medics glanced awkwardly at each other.

"Is it true that they can die doing that?"

"Oh yes." It had been their main objection with Shyla trying it.

The medics turned and ran. He caught up with them while they hastily coded their way through the door to the main cold sleep chamber, rather than the usual viewing chamber, and as such, it was very much a restricted access area.

They did not refuse him entry, so he trailed after them. He wanted to ask them what had them so worried, but until whatever had panicked them settled, he did not want to interrupt their haste. He watched as they performed the procedure to open a cold sleep capsule. He knew the process and guessed whom they were reawakening: Rem, the one who had raised Vash. He felt his stomach plummet then. What had happened to Vash?

He watched as the young woman with raven black hair came around groggily at first then with greater awareness of where she was. She frowned up at the faces around her.

"Shyla?" Her voice emerged as a slightly hoarse whisper, but pleasant to the ears.

The poker faces of the medics let nothing through. They smiled.

"You'll see her soon." One said reassuringly. "I just need to check your reflexes."

Rem sat on the side of the cold sleep capsule and dutifully went through the medical check.

"You're not telling me something." She said with patient stubbornness.

"We'll tell you when you've had something to eat."

"I will hear it here, thank you." Rem glared at the medic. When none of them answered, William found himself at the receiving end of a sharp glare from her dark eyes. "Oh, I remember you. William, isn't it? You were an intern under Tom Harper?"

"Ah, er, yes?" He volunteered. That had been ten years ago.

Rem stood up and he was surprised to discover that for such a firm stare, she was quite a short woman. She walked slowly over to him and folded her arms under her breasts. He hastily hauled his eyes up to her face; did women not know how distracting such a gesture was?

"What has happened? Where is Shyla?"

"She's out on a medic exchange with a nearby town, as far as I know." He said honestly.

"Why are these doctors so edgy?"

"Er..."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Rem, don't interrogate him," one of the medics said in a placating manner, "he doesn't know anything."

"Oh, he knows something." She said, not taking her eyes off his face. "And he's upset." She turned around and from the way the medics winced William was very glad that he was not on the receiving end of that glare. "What has happened to Vash?"

There was a horrible silence. William put it all together in a flash of awful insight. The shock of adrenaline woke him up from that day's exhaustion of work and sorrow.

"Shyla's holding Vash in stasis?" He breathed in horror. "What happened?"

The medics glared at him as Rem turned to him for the full story.

"We weren't going to tell her so bluntly."

"Blunt or no, I want the whole story, now." Rem said in a tone that booked no argument.

The medics looked awkwardly at each other.

"William?" Rem prompted.

"They only mentioned stasis in passing, I guessed." William said, worried, then turned to the medics. "We need to help them. Explain to us as we drive out there."

"What? No, we can't..." The medic did not see the dangerous expression in Rem's eyes.

"As we drive out to them." William said firmly. "I have a car, let us go. Now."

Rem followed him out and the medics scrambled after them, arguing.

.

The drive out to the town where Shyla was posted was a long trek through the desert. Two of the medics slept in the back seat, awkwardly positioned around the medical equipment they had brought. Rem sat almost calmly in her seat in the front, but the set of her jaw and the steel in her eyes belayed her stance. William drove.

"How well do you know Shyla?"

He jumped; he had thought Rem in her own world.

"Well enough, she's been assisting us with a very sick plant."

There was silence.

"Dying?" Rem asked her voice soft.

"Yeah." He could not keep the tremor out of his voice and cringed that she might think him soft. He was startled when she reached over and patted his arm.

Rem sighed softly, as she settled her feet on the chair, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Thank you for your concern." She murmured.

"It's my job and passion." He said self-consciously.

There was silence and he caught Rem's puzzled expression turn to one of understanding.

"I was talking about Vash and Shyla." She clarified.

He kept his eyes on the bleached desert road trying to ignore the blush on his face. He felt a bit of a fool. It did not help that she was pretty. Ugh, where had that thought come from? He was helping Shyla in gratitude for what she had done for Ephemera.

"Ah." He said as smoothly as he could. "Then it would be a debt of friendship and gratitude."

"You know them both?"

"Yes, Vash often visits the plants when he's in the village. Though if you ask me, it's the free walking independent he's really interested in." He grinned, then realised how inappropriate that was. Ah, was he just digging himself a hole.

Rem laughed softly.

"Perhaps. But it is not for us to have such a say in their lives." She murmured.

William gave a snort of laughter. He could not help himself.

"Vash sure has no compunction about giving such advice. You'd swear he was an old granny by the way he quietly drops hints."

Rem stared at him.

"What? Are we talking about Vash here? Vash the Stampede? Nate Saverem?"

"Yes, him. You raised him, I heard." William watched as Rem raised that elegant black eyebrow of hers and hastily continued with what he had to say, he was not going to stare down that look. "He told Tom Harper that mooning after Stacy Ann Harington was not going to catch her, and suggested he ask her out. Tom did and they got married a year later. Apparently he's helped a few men get over their timidity."

William felt the silence was becoming a little too drawn out and sneaked a glance. Rem had had hand over her mouth and her shoulders were shaking. Her eyes sparkled with laughter, then she put her hands over her face and the laughter turned to sobs.

"I just want to see him, one last time." She cried.

William gingerly patted her back, feeling a little useless. He could not drive any faster than he was doing.

.

Rem had cried herself into a half stupor and lay against the window of the car fighting sleep as he drove into town. She sat up as he slowed outside the hospital. The medics were already assembling what they would take in.

William parked the car and the Medics piled out with their stuff. William helped them unload the trunk and returned to lock the car, only to find Rem sitting frozen in the front seat.

"Rem?"

She jumped, and seemed to come to herself.

"Let's go inside." He prompted, then walked around the car and opened her door. She climbed out slowly as if she were waking from the horrors that had held her still. He wondered what had caused such a reaction, some powerful memory in her past. He held out his arm and was quite surprised when she slipped hers around his. For such a collected forthright woman she was surprisingly vulnerable at times. He followed the medics in. They were allowed into the ward, but the security guard stopped them.

"No admittance except for family members."

William dug out his plant engineer's pass.

"We're here on business."

The guard eyed it suspiciously, but grudgingly had to agree with it.

"Leave your weapons here."

"We're not armed."

After a brief frisking the guard allowed them in. William felt Rem claw his arm so tightly he felt the circulation halt in his left hand. On the bed in the adjoining ward lay both Vash and Shyla. Were it not for all the life support plugged in to them and Vash's bandages they could almost be lovers asleep together.

"Rem, sit here." William led her over to a chair on Vash's side. He pried off her hand and placed it over Vash's prosthetic. At least she would not cut the circulation holding that.

He slipped among the medics who were fussing over their vital signs and took out the energy meter he had in his pocket. They used it for testing the excess energy in plants, but here it would serve to know if Shyla had committed herself to suicide or not.

"What's that?" One of the medics asked as he rested it against Shyla's upper arm, that was the place he found he got the best reading on independents.

"They're plants," another medic remarked, awed, "Huh, never thought to check their energy ratings. What's the verdict, Engineer Reeve?"

"Don't separate them, and I'll have to check in an hour again. It's fluctuating, as if she's sending out waves of energy at a time."

"What about Vash?" Rem asked, wide eyed.

He checked and found the same pattern. He smiled.

"They're synced and holding each other in a survival stasis. That's good and bad. For now, they seem to be stabilising. But if anything happens, the one will pull the other down."

"Then step out of the way engineer, and let us see to their stabilisation." The medic ordered.

William sat and watched people. He watched how Shyla had curled herself almost protectively against Vash. He watched how Vash unconsciously echoed her stance. He watched the medics as they argued with Rem and she grudgingly allowed them to change Vash's bandages. She leaned against the wall, her eyes never leaving Vash's face. She had a beauty in her worried expression; her facial features were not common ones. Her skin colour and eye shape were different and intriguing. He looked away as she unconsciously tucked her fine black hair behind her ear. He felt a shock thrill through him. He had not just caught himself eyeing Rem, who knew more about engineering than even Tom Harper, who had raised Vash the Stampede and Millions Knives, if the rumours were to be believed. He needed a distraction.

He walked out to get supper for them and returned to find Rem sitting at Shyla's side now, stroking her pale hair. She took the fast food package with some surprise.

"Thanks." She mused, slowly opening it. "I've been so worried, I forgot I was hungry."

William realised then that he would have to look after her. He did not begrudge that task.

"I've rented a place at the hotel over the road. I could book you a room."

"I'll sleep here thanks." Rem said, but smiled her appreciation.

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It was three days of waiting, but Shyla eventually came to. By this time, two other plant engineers had arrived and had stood as uselessly as he had, measuring the energy output. They were not orb plants where external energy in the form of electricity could be added to their systems. The human medics were doing a better job at healing them.

.

Rem met him at the door as he entered the ward for the morning.

"We're taking them home." She said with a fierce grin. "Shyla says it's okay to move them."

William grinned back in relief. He slipped passed her and caught Shyla's smile.

"Hey, Shyla." He clasped her hand.

"William." She smiled. "How is Ephemera?"

He almost laughed at her complete lack of self-concern, she had almost died doing what she had done, and she was worried about the plant back home.

"When I left she was doing the best she could. She's been asleep more lately."

Shyla gazed sadly at him.

"I'll come and sing to her when I feel well again."

"Thank you." He said quietly.

He felt Rem come stand beside him; again, he noticed a peculiar vulnerability in her face. She seldom showed such emotions so openly, but she did before Shyla.

"We're preparing the truck, Shyla. The medics will wheel you out."

The medics and an escort of Feds wheeled the two patients out. Shyla was awake and Vash unconscious still. William was not nearly as horrified as Rem to learn of the attack on Vash that Shyla and a quick thinking of a doctor had averted. Rem clambered into the back of the truck before the medics could stop her and glared so heatedly at them that they left her there. William drove home alone, trailing in the dust wake of the truck.

.

The next morning he reported for duty and spent half an hour explaining to Tom Harper why he had just disappeared without any by your leave. Tom let him go with a warning and he headed down to the operation stations. He ran through the checks and operations of that day. As the afternoon wound down, he found himself sitting below Ephemera's orb. She was sleeping.

"Is she Ephemera?"

He jumped to his feet, ducking just in time to avoid slamming his head on the orb surface. Rem walked up and stared up at the plant angel with black hair.

"Yes."

To his surprise, Rem reached out, placing both hands on the orb, with an expression of delicate care he had not ever dreamed could cross her determined face. There was a soft sad beauty there. He only realised he was staring at her when she moved suddenly and her eyes flickered and met his. Well, he would lose nothing by asking.

"Do you want to join me for coffee? I could tell you about her, but sound disturbs her if we talk too much here."

Rem's firm gaze softened then. Almost hesitant and skittish, as if for the first time she noticed him as a man and was uncertain.

He reached over and picked up the report file.

"Or you could read the weekly summaries. I know Shyla would want to see them, if you don't mind taking them to her."

Rem took the file and tucked it under her arm then gazed at him.

"I'd prefer tea at this hour." She said and walked to the door, then turned as she reached it. "Is it still your treat?"

William felt a weight lift off his shoulders, perhaps, just perhaps, this could work.


	4. Chapter 4: Touching a Soul EdenEvergreen

_A/N: More fan-fic of fan-fic (: A little tale written for Eden Evergreen. This snippet is expanded from the tale "Daughters of a Desert World" chapter 11. Shyla is her OC, a young girl plant, and Naomi was her adoptive human mother. For more Shyla tales, see 'Vash's Quiet Life' and the following cycle of tales over on Eden Evergreen's account._

First posted: 02 10 2014

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**Shyla and the Scars**

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**Touching a Soul**

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Rem. He was dreaming of Rem. He smiled in his half-awake state, where he dreamed yet knew it was dream. Knives must have added extra blankets in the night, as he was rather warm. Rem had her arm around him. He did not remember why she was cuddling him. Had he had another bad dream? He tried not to think about what bad dream he might have had, but that only drew the memories up faster. Suspended in the half-awake state, yet unable to awaken fully, he scrabbled through dark memories and fear, before his eyes slammed open. He lay with his eyes wide, panting at the cold air of the ship. He clenched his fist in the blanket to reassure himself that none of those memories were occurring right now. No, his sweat soaked sheets were ship manufacture and the air smelled processed. But his hand was a prosthetic. He stared at it for a second, disorientated, then the twin recollections of his whole personal history and the fact that he was at the Seeds Village returned. He breathed out as the shock and panic receded. He was Vash the Stampede, almost two centuries old and not the frightened child who had sought Rem's comfort.

He then became aware of what the warmth was that he was feeling, and felt a second rush of shock. Someone was lying against his back with their arm around him. It took him a panicked split second to calculate exactly how to break the wrist that was touching his chest, how to dive for his revolver, which he had foolishly left on the far side of the room, and how to twist so that his arm gun would be free. Then what he had been sensing all along flowed over him like a cool breeze. Shyla's contented pleasure at his presence. He lay still, but inwardly he shuddered in revulsion. He had been so close to hurting her. He had to draw breath rapidly through his mouth to ward off the instinct to throw up at how ill he felt.

He gingerly wiped the sweat off his forehead with the corner of the sheet. He did not know what to do. What had she been thinking sneaking up on him like that? He felt furious at her incaution. Did she not know how badly he could have harmed her? He gasped as a shudder ran through his body. No, she would not know. He had taken care not to share his guilt at having harmed people while trying to rescue others. She could take the incidents as fact with some qualifying emotions, but he had wanted to spare her the worst of his shame. He twisted his fingers in the sheets and stared blankly into mid distance, worrying. Perhaps he should have shared that with her. Then she might have known to take more care instead of falling asleep beside him while hugging him.

She made a soft noise, almost a sigh of contentment. Vash blinked as that tiny and very endearing noise sent a shudder of a different kind through him. She was hugging him. He opened his eyes wide and stared at the wall opposite, taking in every detail of the cracks and the shadows in the dawn light. He was suddenly hyperaware of everything. Her arm was surprisingly comforting around him like that. She was so warm and soft against his back, and she felt so good. He could get used to waking up with her hugging him like that. In fact, right now, he would like to be even closer to her... he stopped himself short with a gasp.

No, he could not be thinking of that sort of thing now. Where did that idea come from, anyway? It was despicable. She was hardly more than a child. Actually, since she was a plant, developmentally she was still very much a child. Perhaps that was why she was snuggled up in the bed with him. He cringed, sinking into a grey stupor of despair. What was wrong with him? How could he think of that sort of thing now? He dared not move, any movement now would just aggravate the situation. He had never felt so flustered in his life. He panicked suddenly, sincerely regretting that she was a plant, because if he did not get his emotions under control she would want to know why. He gulped in a breath and forced his emotions down into the cool quiet place he went to when he needed to concentrate despite dire distractions. He felt the tension ease slightly, but not his bewilderment.

Hadn't either Naomi or Luida had that discussion with her? Perhaps not, Luida would have assumed that Shyla's age in years corresponded to humans and that she would know. He and Knives had known the mechanics, and had privately giggled over it in awed disgust after Rem had explained it. He smiled as he recalled that it had been the idea of actually kissing a girl that had caused the most revulsion. They had not really understood the enchantment of the rest. Over the years, such intimacy with another person had increased in its appeal, although the sheer awkwardness of such closeness had always prevented it from happening. Yet, somehow, much of that awkwardness was missing between himself and Shyla.

Oh man! Why was he thinking of that with her so close. He swiftly shoved those thoughts and memories away. Well, he would have to ask Luida to speak to Shyla. He knew he could not speak of it, not without opening the can of worms he was now very desperately avoiding. He did not want to sound like he was either rejecting or trying to seduce her. She was a plant; she would see and feel it if he still felt intrigued by the possibility of exploring such things with her. He gulped another breath of air. What was he to do now?

A hurt little thought trundled in just then. Perhaps Shyla was innocent, or perhaps it was more worrying than that. Her ignorance bothered him deeply. How had her lessons been while he had been away? Was she able to learn? They had always spoken mind to mind and used emotion while discussing a topic while she was growing up. Perhaps she struggled while lacking that? Or perhaps she was slow, he honestly did not know how humans learned things. He knew he had a quick mind for things, and knew that Shyla took her time with things, but had always assumed that that was because she was more thorough than he was when interested in a topic. Not only was she innocently hugging him, but also seemed entirely ignorant of the inappropriate nature of such a gesture. Were her relationships so immature and tentative? He pondered how she had welcomed the company of Luida's daughters. They were her friends; she had enough maturity for that. His head hurt with thinking, he honestly did not know how to help her. All he knew was that he desperately wanted to do something to protect her, most of all from himself and the danger he and his reputation represented in her life.

She moved her fingers. That was all it was. She stroked the skin she could feel beneath his pyjamas. He stared down at her fingers negligently caught in the gaps between the buttons of his shirt. The touch of her fingers against his chest was like the stroke of the first morning sun against his face. Light, warm and comforting. It sent warmth rippling over his body. He could not contain the hiss of a gasp that escaped his lips.

"Mmh?" She said, her breath touching the back of his neck.

He found it very hard to seek out his still place within him. There was no question of letting it go, she could not know of his bewildered thoughts, not now.

"You're touching my scars." He said quietly, knowing that was the swiftest method to get people to leave his body alone.

She gave a start and snatched her hand back as if the scars had burned her. Vash closed his eyes as agony poured into his chest. It had worked. Too well. He had not known how much it would hurt to have her reject him. But he could feel the pain in his chest even through the quieting effects of his still place in his mind. He blinked sharply at the tears that pricked at his eyes and drew considered breaths to hide the shudders of sobs that threatened.

"Vash?" She murmured, her breath again touching the back of his neck. However, this time he cringed, ashamed of his own skin.

"Did I hurt you?"

For a moment he did not understand what she had asked. How in the world could she have done that? Wasn't he trying to do his utmost not to hurt her? Where did she get the idea that she might be able to harm him?

"Your scars?" She clarified as the silence dragged on too long.

Vash almost smiled in relief, those wounds were healed now, though their presence would be permanently etched on his body. Even those with raw nerve endings, or strange numb spots were not hurting in the way she seemed to expect.

"No." He said almost cheerily.

She sighed against the back of his neck, and to his bewilderment and consternation slipped her fingers back where they had been.

"Thank God." She whispered in a breathy sigh.

Vash lay still, thinking about Shyla and the warmth of her fingers. All he could sense was Shyla and her soft touch to his chest. However, all he could think about in his rather stunned mind was that it was not the scars that had revolted her. She had touched him, and had withdrawn her hand, then, entirely voluntarily had replaced it. Her fingers were there now, touching his scar as if he were someone worth touching. He felt that calm emptiness vanish. He could not hold it, not with the fresh wave of sudden intense personal awareness. She had not been repulsed. He floated in the feeling of tentative awe and astonishment. He felt very peculiar, as if she had reached through his flesh and lightly stroked his soul. It was an intensely private and bewildering sensation.

It was only as he heard her steady breathing that he realised she was asleep once more. No, she felt nothing towards him in that manner. This was an entirely platonic love. It was only confusing for him; she was protected by innocence and ignorance. Long may it be, he privately prayed over her. Yet, she was not afraid of his scars and sought to comfort him. He cried then, silent tears as forgotten memories of tenderness and love towards himself re-emerged. No wonder he had dreamed of Rem. He had never thought another could ever approach that level of care for one so worthless as himself. He wiped his eyes with the edge of the sheet, feeling refreshed. It was peculiar how tears had that effect for him. There was the choice now, to get up and leave her to sleep, or to go back to sleep himself. He breathed out and closed his eyes. He was confused and heart-weary, and not up to dodging questions if she were to wake and see his mental state now. He let sleep take him, and for the first time in years it came so swiftly he was unaware of its approach.


End file.
